Dissociation
by PT-chan ssu
Summary: "It doesn't matter. I don't need you in my world anymore" was what the bastard said that day, like a slap to his face. So what was he doing here now? Days afterwards, holding him so gently it almost makes him cry? And here Yata realized: this wasn't Saruhiko. –At least not the one he knew, the one that laughed in his face as he burned everything Yata believed in.


**This fic came up while I was obsessing about the K: Lost Small World Spoilers on Tumblr. O_O **

**So, this one is **_**supposed **_**to be a oneshot, but I'm having a writer's block about what comes next so… it shall be a two shot! (Because I reeeally can't write what's next on my own and I want to get this out before I trash it altogether...  
**

btw I've never expected myself to write anything _remotely _close to the rating M (other than, maybe, gore) and so this... is weird... (;a;)

**Disclaimer: SaruMi belongs to Yellow-sama…. But I'd like to think they belong to the fans as well XP**

**Please leave a review? :3**

* * *

**Dissociation**

* * *

The first time it happened was the night Saruhiko's father died.

Saruhiko didn't show any form of concern the whole time his father has been hospitalized. He went about his days normally, as if nothing was wrong. He even said himself that he hoped the man wouldn't recover.

Yata wouldn't say it out loud, but he was a bit unnerved by this behaviour. He was aware of how bad his best friend's relationship was with his father, but there were times when he'd catch himself thinking how cold and heartless Saruhiko can sometimes be, and that scared him. He'd shake the thoughts away, of course, but they'd always be at the back of his mind, whispering to him.

Like that one time when Saruhiko decided it was alright to throw a dead bird they found in the public trashcan; or when he walked unconcernedly around one of their classmates as he was being beaten to a bloody pulp; or when Saruhiko made a passing comment that Heroes don't exist and no one will ever come to your rescue…

It didn't help that the teen rarely showed any actual emotions apart from bored and apathetic and sometimes that sadistic glint in his eyes that never failed to give Yata the chills.

They were loudest when news arrived that the older Fushimi had indeed died, and Saruhiko had let out the most gleeful laugh that it almost sounded insane.

But they hushed up the night after that.

Yata didn't know what or how it happened, but that night Saruhiko just appeared in front of his door, dripping wet from the heavy rain, and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug, burying his face in the other's chest and absolutely refusing to let go.

The younger teen didn't show any response no matter what the brunette said or did, wouldn't even budge from their current position, so Yata decided to just give up and let the guy hold him, even as his clothes and floor got soaked, wondering if some of the warm droplets falling on his shoulder could be the other's hidden tears.

This was the first time he'd ever seen Saruhiko like this, and he couldn't help the relief he felt. It reassured him that no, Saruhiko isn't cold and heartless no matter how he might seem like it.

After what felt like hours later, the weight slowly began to dissipate from his aching shoulders, and Yata felt his heart break a little when he properly saw the state his best-friend was in: wet clothes looking all too big on his lanky frame and hunched shoulders making him look so much smaller than Yata himself… but what caught his attention the most was the completely dead look on the other's eyes, as if he wasn't really there...

Again Yata felt scared. Of or for the teen in front of him, he wasn't sure. "…O-oy, Saru… are you…" _alright? _He was going to ask, dumb question or not, but in the end he wasn't able to complete it when something touched his lips.

And instead of being shocked by the fact that his best friend was _kissing _him –it was his first kiss too!—, tongue prying his lips apart and hands slipping beneath his shirt, Yata was more concerned by how impossibly _cold_ the other was.

"S-SARUHIKO!" he cried, prying the other off him just as the icy pair of lips left his mouth to lap at his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. "You're freezing!" he pushed. "The least you can do's change out of those wet clothes and—" he didn't even manage to finish his sentence before the teen crumpled in a heap to the ground.

The next day, Saruhiko acted as if nothing happened. In fact, it seems he had no recollection of how he ever ended up at Yata's house at all, and although numerous questions filled the brunette's mind, the memory of those dead blue eyes kept his mouth shut.

* * *

Weeks, months after that, and nothing happened. Not even after they graduated Middle School and started living together.

Yata was the one to extend the invitation, knowing that Saruhiko was going to be living alone anyways.

Yata didn't know what to think as Saruhiko remained his impassive self. It was as if that night was just a dream.

And sometimes he'd catcht himself watching the taller teen, inspecting, wondering and perhaps _expecting_ something…

_the memory of the needy embrace and the others soft lips on his…_

—and a blush so bright overtook his face that he had to physically shake himself out of it.

Saruhiko's suspicious face, narrowed eyes and raised brow with an almost pout on those pink lips of his and _they were so cold before, but they look invitingly warm right now that…_

He banged his head on a nearby wall, not even feeling the pain of the impact as he sprang to his feet. "I'm going to the Convenience store!" he hastily announced, making made a mad dash for the door, practically tripping on his feet and stumbling for the doorknob. He didn't even turn back at the other's confused "Huh?"

Slumping down on one of the nearby alleys and hiding his face in his arms, he tried to calm his rapidly beating heart at the thought of his best friend. _I must've looks like a complete Idiot._ He groaned.

_What the heck was I thinking? _He reprimanded himself once he managed to calm his breathing. _Whatever happened then was probably some weird dream I conjured up… _

_No wait. That just makes things a LOT weirder! GUYS DON'T NORMALLY DREAM THAT SORT OF THING!_

_At least not about DUDES!_

_And it's Saruhiko for God's sake! SARUHIKO!_

_**And for once he thought about just what would've happened had he not pushed him away that time. If Saruhiko didn't faint. If he let those lips do what they wanted, trailing down his neck as his cold cold hands trailed up his back…**_

"GAAAAGH!"

"Misaki?" he practically screamed when the voice he knew all too well sounded beside him, and Misaki sprung up, red faced and tensed like a cat splashed with water.

"Sa-s-Saruhiko" -because really, he's the only one Yata would everallow to say his first name, _ever—_raised a brow at his –really weird, no denying it— reaction. "The heck is up with you? You look like you've seen a ghost"

Yata shuffled on his feet, looking anywhere but the other as he tried his best to fight down the heat on his face. "T-that's… I-tt's… I-I mean… It's none of your business whatever I do!" he huffed, crossing his arms and again trying to calm his fluctuating heart. He could practically hear the blood pumping up his ears at this point.

"…" Saruhiko was silent for a while, which was unnerving because Yata could feel the other's gaze on his person. He gulped, suppressing a shiver.

"…right" the younger finally stated, completely unconvinced but unconcerned at the same time. Yata almost pouted. "Anyways I just came because you left your wallet and watch. Figured you can't do anything without them" he continued, handing him the objects.

If possible, Yata's blush deepened as he only just realized he forgot all about them…

"You're an idiot"

"SHUT UP!" he snapped, grabbing his belongings and stomping out towards the convenience store with purpose. He reeeeeally needed some grub right about now. Preferable something sweet…

"What are you doing?" he asked, noticing the other walking alongside him without looking.

"I don't think I should let you go alone in case you make an absolute fool of yourself" Saruhiko stated, and Yata whipped his head his way, eyes burning with offended anger.

"I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING IDIOT!"

"Says the guy who almost fell asleep in a cold alley"

"I WASN'T ASLEEP!"

"And squealed like a girl"

"WHAAT? I DID NOT!"

"Riiiight"

"SHUT UP!"

"Whatever you say, _Mi-sa-kii_~" Saruhiko grinned, and Yata just _knew _his heart skipped a beat when he saw that smile.

…_Oh shit…_

"D-Don't say my name… idiot…" he stuttered, turning the other way in a futile attempt to hide another blush.

Oh how he wished he could crawl under a rock somewhere and die right then and there…

"You're all red you know"

He groaned. _This… is NOT happening._

* * *

The second time it happened, Yata won't deny the tears that streamed down his face, wouldn't try to stop them either.

In much the same manner, Saruhiko appeared just outside the door of his room and embraced him without a single word.

Yata contemplated punching him; pushing him away and beating the shit out of him for all the grief he was feeling.

It had only been days after his betrayal, the marred skin of his nape still raw and fresh for all to see.

Yata grit his teeth at the sight of it, gaze immediately turning into an accusing glare…

"_It doesn't matter. I don't need you in my world anymore" _was what the bastard had said that day, like a slap to Yata's face as those eyes cold as ice ridiculed him.

Saruhiko had joined Scepter 4. He was leaving HOMRA, leaving their apartment, leaving _him!_

It was sheer anger and willpower that kept him from breaking down when the other let out a laugh – a laugh that sounded just plain _insane_. Mocking HOMRA, their pride, him, _everything. _

"_You… did HOMRA mean __**anything**__ to you?" _he whispered, voice low and trembling as he stared into those deranged eyes, a feeling of hopelessness joining the pain and anger he was feeling. A different question rang in his mind, but he wasn't able to put it to words. He didn't want to know the answer. _Did __**I **__mean anything to you?_

Saruhiko left right after that, leaving no indication of ever turning back, and Yata felt that he would seriously kill the bastard the next time he saw him.

He would've too. He seriously would have if it weren't for the tears running down Saruhiko's face, now without the rain to camouflage it.

If those tears didn't look so genuine, if Saruhiko's eyes didn't look so _dead –again, like that night his father died— _Yata would've thought it was just another ploy. The younger teen coming back to rub salt in his wounds; laugh at his misery.

Instead, he let his tears fall. Let those arms embrace him. Embraced him back. But somehow Yata knew that this wasn't natural, that Saruhiko didn't come to apologize or to reconcile.

The scar on the younger's chest was proof that what happened was no joke. Saruhiko couldn't have made his determination more painfully obvious. He couldn't have done that just to take it all back. Saruhiko was too stubborn for that.

So then, what was happening? What was this about? Even as these questions filled Yata's mind, there was no answer available.

Saruhiko doesn't say anything. Much the same way as the first time this happened, it was as if he didn't even know how to speak.

And here Yata realized: this wasn't Saruhiko. –At least not the one he knew, the one that laughed in his face as he burned everything Yata believed in.

He probably wouldn't remember this in the morning, just like the time after his father died.

Slowly, steeling his nerves, Yata released himself from the hug and grasped Saruhiko's hand. Unlike the first time though, there was no resistance, and the brunette was able to seat the raven on the side of his bed, leaving him there to get the first-aid kit they always kept in the bathroom.

In the end, it really didn't feel right for him to just leave that gaping wound open, no matter how much he resented it.

_Deep inside Yata hopes that maybe… maybe if it heals right, then they could pretend it never happened…? _

It was childish and impossible. The burn had scarred too deep to ever even heal, and Saruhiko just looked too perfect in the new pristine blue of Scepter 4s uniform.

Still, he could hope… couldn't he?

Even if Saru decides to never return to HOMRA, at least he could come back… right?

Saruhiko displayed no reaction, not from the moment he was seated to after Yata pried off his jacket, vest, and shirt to gain clear access to the grotesque burn. Didn't even flinch when Yata attempted to dump an entire bottle of alcohol on it, which was a little frustrating the brunette had to admit. The raven just sat there, eyes dead to the world. Yata wasn't even sure if the raven could even see him… if he was even _alive _at all really, and that thought scared him.

With a sigh, the brunette managed to clean up most of the wound, heart clenching at the memory behind it, before gradually covering it up. "You…" he began as he cleaned up the kit. "…just what were you thinking? Joining Scepter 4… burning your Mark… betraying Homra" he felt his fists clench, looking up at those unresponsive eyes for the first time since he came…

"Why?" he couldn't help but ask, feeling a sense of despair as he remembered how those cruel those eyes had been, all the while knowing he wasn't gonna get a response. Not from this Saruhiko. And perhaps not from the real one either…

"_**I don't need you in my world anymore"**_

His fists clenched as the memory resurfaces, making his blood boil. "…Why did you say that?" he practically hissed, grabbing the raven by the shoulders. "…"

"What did I… mean… to you?" he whispered, eyes downcast…

"_Misaki" _

The brunette looked up, surprised. Had this Saruhiko just spoken? But then again it was so soft it could've just been the wind…

"Misaki" A hand cupped his cheek, and this time Yata was sure it was the raven who spoke.

"S-Saruhiko—" he began, but was cut off when a pair of lips covered his own. Warm lips this time.

This realization made him flinch, the sudden movement causing the near-catatonic raven to slip off the edge of the bed. Yata felt his breath hitch when he found his back to the floor, Saruhiko looming over him, arms on either side of his head.

His head grew fuzzy at their proximity, feeling his heart pounding against his chest as he inhaled the other's scent… so familiar, but _different_ at the same time…

And then those lips were on his yet again, gentle at first, before it grew in intensity and passion that Yata could only shiver as he found himself kissing back, his moans being stifled by that mouth as the other's tongue explored his…

_What would've happened if I didn't push him away then…?_

And then the pressure left his lips, trailing soft kisses down his jaw and his neck, and his mind was too clouded to realize that his shirt had been discarded long ago…

He gasped when something hot and wet trailed down his chest, sending a shiver down his spine, moving lower and lower, leaving a warm, burning sensation in its wake.

Now he wonders why he's not resisting. Why he's responding. Why he feels so _desperate _in a way as he unconsciously grabbed Saruhiko's face, pulling him in for all he was worth, fuelled on as the other responds in equal fervour, hands trailing lower and lower down his body…

But then… "You won't… remember anything…" he whispered solemnly, slowly pushing the other away, not daring to look him in the face. His hands were trembling, teeth clenching at the thought, the realization, shivering at the cold that suddenly washed over him from the loss of contact…

This meant nothing.

In the end it wouldn't be any different from a dream; when he wakes up, the bunk above his would still be empty, no monotone voice complaining about the noise he'd make when he gets up. There would be no glasses next to a scrap-laptop on top of that drawer, no one to tease him for his next-to-non-existent cooking skills even as he grudgingly finished every bite…

"_Misaki…"_ 'Saruhiko' whispered softly once more, gently, almost _lovingly, _and Yata could barely hold back his tears at how completely _different _it sounded from the last time he'd heard it.

A gentle hand caressed his face, and he had little choice but to look up. Just one look at that gentle expression, eyes unfocused, but filled with sincerity and burning desire… "_Misaki…"_

He gave up. Letting tears trail down his face as the taller teen held him, caressed him, entered him in a way that just wasn't _him _but felt all too pleasurable anyways.

And it was still his scent, his touch, and his voice that was calling to him that Yata was sure he'd already lost his mind.

_Please…!_ he cried in his mind as he gasped, moaned, shivered as the other explored his being, thrusting into him. _Please don't go…_

_Don't leave me…_

_Come back…!_

"_Sa-! ruhik-o!_"

...

"You should go" Yata stated as the haze slowly cleared from his mind, lying down in semi-soiled sheets, feeling all too comfortable and yet not in the other's arms. He doesn't turn to look. "I won't know how to explain this to Saru" his voice broke as he spoke, hoarse from overuse.

He felt his stomach churn as the warmth of the body next to him slowly disappeared, footsteps walking away and doors closing without a word.

And all he was left with was cold.

His back and legs ached like hell, and he was only starting to realize the gravity of his situation.

He'd just had sex with his ex-best friend, days after being betrayed, after being cast aside, after being told _he wasn't needed_. And he seemed so_ desperate. _So _weak_

His hands clenched the sheets so tight his blood was cut off, curling up into himself as shame filled his being.

_He won't remember anything. _Was the only thought that could bring him solace, but at the same time it left a deep sense of despair as well.

_This is nothing more than a dream._

* * *

In the months after that, Yata barely slept a wink at night.

He moved from their shared apartment soon afterwards, hoping to get away from the memories and the pain, but it didn't help much.

He tried to act as normally as he can in front of his King and comrades, but everyone knew he doesn't make a good actor. Thankful as he was for their concern, he really doesn't want to talk about it. And not even Totsuka-san or Kamamoto could lift his spirits any.

He couldn't look Anna in the eyes anymore either.

The only thing that calmed him down now was downing bottles of the milk he despised –perhaps for the sake of rebellion more than any craving for it; another reason would be that Kusanagi-san absolutely forbade him from so much as breathing in the scent of alcohol.

The nights he did manage to get to sleep, he wished he hadn't.

Because he would remember that night –Saruhiko's lips, his scent, his touch; laying him down and making love to him, and he would cry, and moan, and shiver, and _beg _and…

_**I don't need you in my world anymore**__…_

And then everything would shatter, and there was Saruhiko, wearing that crazed grin of his as flaming hands burns his mark, only Yata burns along with it, and the teen would laugh in that same sadistic manner as he walks away, leaving Yata to beg for him not to go…

And Yata would wake up, one hand outstretched as tears trailed down his face…

And his other hand is stained.


End file.
